


meet me in paris

by giftedsun



Category: Love Live! School Idol Festival (Video Game), Love Live! School Idol Project
Genre: F/F, France - Freeform, France AU, Post-Canon, could fit in after my other fic but it's okay like. hmm, kotonico, listen i just love. love, okay so like. this started as an idea on discord and now here i am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-04-05 06:51:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14038590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giftedsun/pseuds/giftedsun
Summary: it's been four years since muse was last together, and kotori's moved on.





	1. part one

It’s been three years since Kotori left Japan, and no one from her old life has come across her, until now.

The city of Paris is large, and France itself is even larger. At first, she found it dizzying— Kotori would spend hours wandering the circuitous streets, desperately trying to find her apartment, freezing in her tiny skirt. One night, she found the Eiffel Tower. Kotori couldn’t have helped but look up at it in awe. This had been a few days after she moved in; This was her first time seeing the Tower in all its glory. She couldn’t believe she was here, in Paris, the city she had dreamed about since she was tiny. Throughout years of scrapbooked pages and cut-out magazine pictures, she had found her way here. Taking a deep breath, Kotori had exhaled and smiled to herself. She could do this.

Of course, not every moment could be quite so calming. Kotori’s post-high school life had been grueling, and she had loved nearly every minute of it. Her life had fallen into a routine, and Kotori now knew how to navigate her way through every part of the city, when to pick up her freshly-baked baguettes from the nearby boulangerie (not Sunday, everyone got bread on Sunday; it was best to go a Tuesday or Thursday), and had learned the valuable skill of wearing leggings under skirts. 

Her schooling had fallen into a similar kind of routine, though her start had been rocky. Fashion design was a rough business, and the people in Kotori’s class were cutthroat. Freshman year had passed in a flurry of tears and tissues. Dresses were torn, patterns stolen, and countless other  _ incidents _ had happened. It would have been enough to make Kotori quit, if she wasn’t doing what she loved most in the world. 

By now, Kotori’s last year of college, the proverbial crowd had thinned quite a bit. Kotori hated to think it, but it seemed as if the weak had been weeded out. Everyone left in the fashion department were completely and utterly serious about what they did. They were all much too devoted to their individual works to waste time on petty tricks. Kotori had made friends there, different kinds of friends than those she had back home, but friends nonetheless. It was odd, having people who loved what she did just as vehemently.  

She adored clothes, more than anything, more than being an idol. That was another good thing about France: no one knew who she was. μ’s was foreign enough that it had completely evaded the social sphere of Paris. Sometimes, as Kotori made her way through the city, she would hear whispers of  _ “Hey, isn’t she…” _ and think of a girl, long ago, who insisted on wearing a disguise in public.

There was also the fact that μ’s was, well, old. They were being replaced— and had been for a while. They had spent long afternoons in the club room, the year after they disbanded, looking at all these new groups popping up, and just feeling shocked. According to some, μ’s were legends. But on those days, they had just felt replaced. Kotori still kept up with it, still looked at idol magazines. It was astonishing, what μ’s had started. The pressure of it was overwhelming— yet another reason Kotori had to leave. 

She hasn’t devoted more than a minute of her time thinking of μ’s since she got here, but that seems to be all that’s on her mind as she walks into the studio today. It’s making Kotori feel completely on edge, even as she smiles her way through greetings and makes her way to her station. The large room is filled with chatter as everyone gets settled, and Kotori enjoys it— it’s familiar, and makes her feel warm. As Kotori powers up her sewing machine and her laptop, the girl who works at the station in front of her turns around.

“Hey, did you hear that we’re getting a transfer student? She’s from America, apparently!”

“Really? It’s surprising, this late in the semester, but I suppose someone has to fill the empty spot—” Kotori gestured to the workstation next to her, which had been abandoned ever since the girl who used to work there had a nervous breakdown and dropped out. “And she must be amazing to have gotten in.” 

The girl nods in agreement, and turns back to her own work. Though they don’t need to be completely focused on work yet, the room is always bustling, even at the early hour. The day ahead is sure to be long. With this in mind, Kotori steps into the hall to fill her water bottle. Her earlier thoughts creep back into her head, and suddenly, she’s remembering the day she left. 

All of her friends had came to see her off at the airport, including the third years. Hanayo had cried, as had Honoka and Umi. Maki gave Kotori a book to read on the plane, and Rin passed along snacks in case she got hungry. Nozomi had smiled at her, and then gave her a huge hug. Eli had given her a notebook, inscribed with a beautiful note on the front page. On the plane, later, Kotori would read it, and burst into tears. 

Nico, however… Nico had glowered at her, and stood away from the rest of the group. In a quiet moment, Kotori had gone over to her.

“Nico? Is everything alright?”

The older girl had only glared, and then began digging in her purse. Pulling out a bright, bubblegum pink lip gloss, Nico pressed it into Kotori’s open hand.

Fixing her with a serious gaze, Nico answered, “Kotori. Don’t give up. I mean it. No matter what, no matter how much you miss us, or home,  _ keep going _ .” She then smiled, still holding Kotori’s hand. “I’m rooting for you.”

Kotori had kept that lip gloss, and wore it on on days when she felt she needed some extra luck. As she made her way to the water fountain, her hand found the tube inside her purse, and she pressed it into her palm, trying to reassure herself. 

Turning the corner, Kotori froze. What kind of coincidence was this? Standing right at the water fountain, wearing high heels and a short skirt, stood a pair of twintails that Kotori would always recognize.

Well. After everything, it made sense that Nico Yazawa would waltz back into her life when she least expected it.


	2. part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i love girls. kotori loves girls. nico loves girls. (im tired and dont want to type an actual summary.)

A soft “Nico-chan?” falls from Kotori’s lips, breaking the frigid silence. The quiet drizzle of the water fountain stops. Nico Yazawa makes a show out of it, straightening her back as she turns to face Kotori. The look on her face is familiar;  smug, high-and-mighty, almost as if she knows she’s already won. It makes Kotori smile warmly. She’s been alone in this grand city for so long; now, to have a friend, to have somebody she knows right by her side, is amazing.

“Kotori!” Nico rushes to her, throwing her short arms around Kotori’s body. Joyously, Kotori grips her back, pressing her thumbs to Nico’s cheeks. They’re so close, and Kotori thinks, _Maybe I should_ …

“Wait. Kotori.” Nico’s voice turns unexpectedly cold. She takes a step back, out of Kotori’s grasp. “Kotori. You’re here.” She sounds like she’s on the verge of a realization, teetering along until— “You never called!” She exclaims, recoiling back even further. “Or came back, not even for the first years’ graduation! What the fuck, Kotori?” Her face turns red, not because she Nico is embarrassed, but because of the amount of energy she’s putting into her rant. Her two hands have balled into fists, her eyes are narrowed. By now, Kotori recognizes it: this is attack mode. “We all missed you. We were all together, for the first time in years, and you—” Nico pushes at Kotori’s shoulder, feebly, “You didn’t show up!”

“Nico-chan, please!”

The cry from Kotori seems to snap Nico out of it, and the anger drains out of her. “Friends show up, Kotori. You know that. We all did for you. And now? You don’t call, you don’t text. Umi and Honoka say that they don’t hear from you more than once a month.” Nico looks Kotori in the eyes, and the younger girl feels so absolutely _shamed_ that she has to look down.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Nico, you have to forgive me, please—!”

“I don’t have to do anything.” Her tone remains cold. “We may go to the same school and be in the same class, but I have no interest in being friends with someone who treats people like that.” Nico spins on her heel, facing the hallway that leads to the classroom. “I thought better of you, Kotori.”

Kotori stands there long after Nico’s gone.

A long sigh echoes through the halls. “If only I.. could just explain…”

 

Nico ignores her vehemently during class that day. And the day after that. And the one after that. Even though their workstations are parked right next to each other, Nico pointedly makes it her goal to never look at Kotori, to never accidentally make eye contact as they draw up patterns or cut fabric. It’s ridiculous. It’s utterly Nico, and if Kotori wasn’t feeling so awful about the entire situation, she’d have to laugh.

Kotori tries to reach out. She orders an extra croissant in the morning, grabs a large hot chocolate and sets them firmly on Nico’s workstation. The croissant is found inside her purse on her way home; however, she suspects Nico drank the hot chocolate and considers it a win. She sets chocolates in Nico’s bag, leaves encouraging notes on the table.

It’s all to no avail. Nico still pretends she doesn’t exist, and, when she does, she’s cruel. Small comments make their way into Kotori’s stratosphere. It would hurt more if she didn’t know how Nico operates by now; in reality, Nico is just trying to protect herself. What really hurts Kotori is the pain that Nico is going through, the pain that she’s caused. She brushes off Nico’s remarks about an uneven hemline. She keeps trying, just like Nico told her to, three years ago.

Through their college’s online information database, she’s able to find Nico’s address. As Kotori tells herself, this is absolutely not stalking! All she wants to do is reconnect with an old friend! So, when she rings the doorbell and slides a letter under the door, she doesn’t feel bad.

There’s no answer. Nico makes no sign of having read the letter in class the next day.

Kotori comes back the next day. Another letter. Another doorbell. This time, she leans a baguette against the doorframe. Nico did always like food, and the bread is fresh. No one can ignore the smell of bread right outside their door, even if it is being left by someone they despise.

More letters. More unanswered doors.

Kotori begins bringing written letters everywhere, dropping them anywhere and everywhere that Nico can find them. Tucked into her purse. Slid into her laptop. They all have different words on them, all have different sentiments. Some just recount old memories. Others are outpourings of emotion. She assumes that Nico reads none of them.

The last letter, she ends:

_I guess you haven’t read any of these._

_Maybe I should stop._

_I guess I will. You don’t want to talk to me. I should respect that._

_I miss you, Nico. I miss them all so much._

She leaves it in Nico’s mailbox. The doorbell rings. Kotori walks away.

 

Not an hour after Kotori’s left Nico’s apartment, her doorbell rings. It frightens her, startling her out of a stupor. She was trying to think of new outfit ideas.

“Nico-chan!” She exclaims, opening the door to her old friend. The other girl’s eyes are red. she clutches a letter in her hand.

“Kotori. I read them. I read them all.” She blows past Kotori, hurricane Yazawa, making her way into the apartment and onto a remarkably soft couch in the living room. “Listen. Don’t stop. Or, rather, do, and actually talk to me, because I’ve been something of an asshole to you. I didn’t let you say what you needed to say. And I doubted you, which is crap because I know you and you’ve never given up on me. I shouldn’t have done the same to you. I’m sorry, Kotori.”

Kotori is seated next to her on the couch. She grasps Nico’s hands firmly. “No, I’m sorry. I was having issues, and I shouldn’t have ever cut out you— cut out anybody— If I explain, can you forgive me? I know you read the letters, but…”

Nico nods, taking deep, shuddering breaths.

Kotori holds up her phone, passes it to Nico. She points to the words in the top left corner: NO SERVICE.

Nico repeats them. “No service…? But why?”

Kotori takes a deep breath. “Nico. It was too much for me. Everything, being an idol, μ’s… I couldn’t handle it. Just thinking about it made me sad, made me feel like a foolish teenager again. I… You know that I never wanted to be an idol, right? That I only joined for Honoka? In Japan… that didn’t matter. No matter what, I was just super-idol Kotori Minami. And I couldn’t be that anymore! I wanted… something more for myself. Something that made me more than “Honoka Kousaka’s best friend” or “a former member of μ’s.” That’s why I came here, and I tried to stay in touch, but every time I would talk to Umi, or Hanayo, or anyone else, I would just feel like it was all a mistake. I had to stop. Otherwise, I would have come home. And coming home meant becoming less than… myself. So I just… shut my phone off. Months ago. I-It’s no excuse, but I hope you can… forgive me. Somehow.”

Nico lets out a huge breath and grips Kotori’s hands back. “I already forgave you. It’s okay.” She flips a ponytail over her shoulder, pulling on that oh-so-familiar high and mighty grin. “After all, who could outshine Nico-nii when she’s out stealing all these hearts, ohoho~!”

Kotori lets out a weak giggle. Nico grins.

“Now that we’re talking… can you catch me up on everything that’s happened these last two and a half years?”\

* * *

 

“So, Honoka and Tsubasa, huh?”

The two girls are leaning against the front of the couch, sitting on the floor, a pint of ice cream between them. Kotori’s lit candles. They provide the only light in the room.

“Hah, yeah. I think Honoka thinks that the rest of us don’t know, but there’s _definitely_ something there.”

“And,” Kotori’s voice wavers, “You and Maki, right?”

“Ah…” Nico’s eyebrows draw down, the only sign of any distress. “Not anymore. Only for a bit.”

“And would you…”

“Would I?”

“Ah, nevermind. Kotori was just… being silly.” She looks up at Nico. In the candlelight, Kotori is glowing.

“Kotori?” Nico asks.

“Let me just… try something.”

Quickly, she presses her lips to Nico’s.

Nico freezes. Then, she leans back in, capturing Kotori’s lips again. The other girl tastes like bitter chocolate from the ice cream they were eating. It makes Nico want to laugh. She doesn’t laugh.

Instead, she pulls back and whispers something right on top of Kotori’s nose. “Kotori?” she repeats.

“Yes?”

“That hemline wasn’t crooked. I was just angry.”

Kotori laughs, that sweet, bubbling laugh, and pulls Nico in, again.

“I know, Nico. I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! this fic is my baby, and bringing her up through her conception (back in feburary) has been amazing! i appreciate all of you so much for reading it!!!! don't be afraid to drop a comment or kudos or anything, they make me supremely happy and make me keep writing. thank you!

**Author's Note:**

> hi i love kotonico? this au was created on impulse and i really should be writing for my ckrk au but like here i am!! also im hoping to make this a two-shot but like. we'll see.


End file.
